


No Discernible Features

by courie969



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Photography, Pining, Possessive Dean, Smut, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 03:28:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courie969/pseuds/courie969
Summary: In their final semester of college, best friends and roommates Dean and Cas are assigned as partners for the senior project for a photography class - a character study of tasteful nudes using no discernible features.  The problem is, Dean knows everything there is to know about his friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> What started off as a picture prompt of a very nice looking butt from Fran... This kind of took on a life of it's own.

The professor's voice drones on and on. Dean knows he should be paying attention, it's only the first week of classes, and it is the very last class he needs to graduate with his degree in photography. Who knew, Dean muses to himself while chewing on the end of his ballpoint pen, that Mr. GED and Give-em-Hell attitude would be sitting in a classroom after four years, about to finish something that he never even thought he'd be able to start in the first place.

His desk partner elbows him lightly in the side, startling Dean a bit. “Pay attention,” he says, and Dean flashes him a wide grin to counter the scowl still lingering on the other man's face, even after he turns his head back to the front of the classroom.

Dean props his head up with his left hand, shifting slightly to watch the other man. Castiel. Cas, his roommate of four years, his best friend, his sun and moon and stars in the sky – Dean clears his throat slightly at that thought, he's not really sure when the dynamic of their friendship changed in to something more, on his part anyway – Cas was about as clueless in the relationship department as a cactus. Complete with prickly personality and all. 

But, really, that's what Dean liked – loved, if he were ready to be honest with himself – about the nerdy guy with black rimmed glasses. His dark hair and bright blue eyes, and the way he tilted his head ever so slightly when he was confused. Dean especially loved how clueless Cas was that other people, men and women alike, seemed to be just as enamored with the man as Dean is. The difference being, Dean supposes, is that those other people had the balls, and lady-balls if you will, to actually try and approach Cas about it. If Dean standing behind Cas with his arms crossed and a deep scowl on his face warned off potential suitors, then so be it – Cas didn't really need to know about that, anyway.

Dean, lost in his reverie, studies Cas's face – sort of secretly, he tells himself. He half listens to the professor going on about their syllabus and what's to be expected of them for the semester – the same thing every professor of every class goes on about, really, and he tunes out the quiet murmurs of other students in the class. He watches Cas move his finger down the paper on the desk in front of them, following along as the teacher reads the entire document out loud, and he smiles to himself when Cas mouths the words at the same time, humming softly when he notices Cas's tongue dart out to wet his lips. 

Dean studies the the left side of Cas's face, the way his crazy dark hair slightly curls under his ear, his hair never did cooperate and it made Cas perpetually look like he just rolled out of bed, or had crazy sex – or both, and he smiles to himself when he notices the small mark on his ear – a scar the result of a drunken piercing since taken out and healed that Dean talked him in to getting, just to be rebellious, during their first year of college together. He studies the way, after all these years, Cas still sits up ramrod straight – the lingering result of a strict upbringing – and the way his t-shirt, actually Dean's t-shirt now that he's thinking about it – it must have gotten mixed up in their laundry, and damn if that doesn't make his heart skip a few beats, bunches up in certain places and how the collar is slightly too big and stretched out.

He sighs slightly and shifts again, accidentally bumping his knee against Cas's, causing the other man to glance over at Dean, giving him a questioning frown, his blue eyes searching Dean's face for a moment. Dean smiles around the cap of the pen he's still chewing on and Cas shakes his head, reaching up to remove the pen from Dean's mouth.

Dean startles slightly, not expecting such an intimate action from his friend, but quickly recovers and realizes that the professor is now silent and sitting at her desk, and the rest of the class has moved off into pairs. He crosses his arms over his chest and slouches in his seat, his legs spread wide under the table, though his knee still pressed against Cas's.

“You weren't paying attention at all, were you?” Cas asks him, and Dean turns his head back to look at Cas, just in time to see the other man's tongue dart out to lick his perpetually dry lips again. Dean stares, his eyes flicking from Cas's lips to his eyes and then back again.

Seeing Cas frown slightly, he smiles at his friend, and sits up in his seat, scooting his chair closer, his shoulder pressing into Cas's.

“That's what I have you here for,” Dean drawls out, and he grins at his friend's exasperated look.

“Dean,” Cas says, in that way that always goes straight to Dean's groin, “We have to do a character study of the human body in photographs.”

Seeing Dean's confusion, he taps the pen he rescued from Dean's mouth to the paper on the desk.  
“See,” he says, and Dean leans into Cas's personal space, his brain quickly registering that Cas didn't even attempt to move away from Dean.

Dean glances over the paper, reading the description of their one and only project for this class.  
“Dean, we signed up as partners for this course, we'll have to do the project together,” Cas sounds worried.

“That's fine, Cas. See, look,” Dean taps his index finger on the paper and reads a few snippets aloud. “Character study, tasteful nudity, no identifying features... it'll be fine.”

Cas frowns, his shoulders hunching over a bit as he tugs aimlessly at the too large collar of his shirt, Dean's shirt, Dean's brain reminds him, which makes Dean grin and pluck at Cas's, his, shirt sleeve. “Besides, it ain't nothin' we've never seen before – we've lived together for four years.”

Glancing at the clock and seeing it was time to go, Dean bumps his shoulder against Cas again before scooping up his papers and shoving them into his bag. He waits for Cas to do the same and watches as the rest of the class files their way outside of the room. When Cas is finished, they both stand and Dean hikes his bag up on his shoulder, following closely behind Cas as they, too, leave the classroom.

“Besides,” Dean says as they move out into the hallway. “We'll do you, first.” He reaches forward and pinches Cas in the side playfully, grinning at Cas's exasperated look.

**************

Over the course of the next few weeks, Dean and Cas go about their business as usual. They go to their classes together, they meet in the library to study, they spread their papers across the living room floor of their two bedroom apartment and pretend to work.

One day, mid-way through the semester, they sit together on their too small couch, Cas watching some bee documentary on National Geographics on the too large TV that Dean insisted on buying and Dean sprawled out, his feet and legs kicked up in Cas's lap, fiddling with his camera, snapping too many pictures of Cas under the pretense of their character study project, but really just relishing in the fact that he can stare at Cas through the camera lens.

Dean points his camera at Cas's face, focusing the lens on the perpetual 5-o-clock shadow Cas has there, and snaps a picture. He snaps another when he notices Cas's slight frown and the furrow in Cas's brow.

“Dean,” Cas's gravelly voice calls out, and Dean feels Cas's fingers wrap around his ankle, still situated in his friend's lap, before he even sees Cas's hand move, too focused on the other man's face.

“Hmm, Cas? What?” Dean lowers his camera and meets his friend's stare.

“Dean,” Cas begins again, his blue eyes narrow and his head tilted slightly. It makes Dean smile. “Why do you stare at me?”

Surprise and then terror quickly flashes across Dean's face, his entire body tense at having been caught. His green eyes wide, he gestures to the camera in his lap and clears his throat, “Dude, character study..” he trails off, certain his heart was thudding in his chest loud enough for Cas to hear.

Cas squints slightly, his blue eyes searching Dean's face, he makes a noncommittal noise after a moment and turns back to his bee program, his thumb lightly stroking over Dean's ankle bone. Conveniently ignoring the heat from his pink tinged cheeks, Dean lifts his camera and snaps a picture of Cas's fingers around his ankle. He lets out a shaky breath and relaxes, confident that he didn't give anything away.

**************

There seems to be a shift in dynamic over the course of the next couple of weeks. Since Dean is constantly watching Cas, under the pretense of picture taking of course, Dean notices when Cas starts to watch him, too. It starts off as Cas glancing over at him more often than usual while they're lounging around the house watching TV together, or sitting at the dining room table doing their homework. Dean will catch Cas's gaze lingering on his mouth when he's destroying yet another pen, and Dean will catch the slight movement of Cas's eyes as they linger on a patch of skin Dean “accidentally” revealed while stretching. And he notices when Cas blushes if Dean lingers a little bit too long when he looks at Cas.

So, Dean handles this how any sort of sane person with a massive crush would do, he wears less clothing. Of course, it's springtime and starting to get warm, anyway, but Dean makes it a point to keep off his normal flannel over shirt and just wear t-shirts when he and Cas are at home. Dean also makes it a point to leave the bathroom door open just slightly when he goes in there for a shower, and he starts opening the door completely while standing in front of the sink to shave, his waist wrapped in a towel. Of course, because Dean Winchester isn't that cruel, he doesn't say anything the first time Cas walked by the bathroom and tripped over his own feet when he saw Dean.

The problem is that Cas seems to be catching on to what Dean's doing, though he never comes out and says anything. Gone are the normal sweater vests and button downs, and in their place are t-shirts – well worn t-shirts, both too big and too small - some of which came directly out of Dean's closet, Dean knows this because he caught Cas red handed in his room. Of course, Cas turned bright red when he realized Dean was leaning against the door frame of his bedroom, and Dean could only smirk as he watched Cas helplessly gesture to the laundry basket in his arms and mutter something about putting clothes away. He conveniently ignored the fact that his favorite Zeppelin shirt was on the top of the pile in the basket when Cas pushed past him.

**************

Friday night finds Dean sitting in a booth across from his brother and his girlfriend at their favorite pizza place, a weekly tradition now that Sam is a Freshman on the campus. They make small talk and catch up, chatting aimlessly about their classes and Dean laughing as Sam complains about having to live in the dorm during his first year.

“Hey, your better half has finally arrived,” Jess interrupts, earning a laugh from Sam and a scowl from Dean.

Dean waves Cas over, watching as the frazzled looking man hurries over, his dark hair wet from the rain outside and sticking up everywhere. He gets up and lets Cas climb into the booth, his eyes lingering on Cas's ass for a moment – he's pretty sure those are his jeans if the way they hang off of Cas's hips is any indication, and judging by the small hole in the knee, they definitely are. Dean hooks a finger in the back belt loop of the pants and tugs slightly, he grins at Cas when Cas turns to look back at Dean. Cas rolls his eyes and shrugs, and Dean lets his finger drop. Giving Cas a second to situated himself, Dean slides into the booth next to him, pressing his shoulder against his, regardless of there actually being enough space for the two of them on the seat. 

Cas mutters an apology while rubbing his hands over his arms. Dean brushes his thumb over Cas's eyebrow, effectively wiping away the rain droplet threatening to splash onto Cas's lashes. He pointedly ignores the look that Sam gives him.

Waving the waiter over, they place their order, Dean and Cas sharing a large three meat and mushroom pizza and Sam and Jess ordering rabbit food and a meatball sub to share.

“So,” Jess asks, “How's your senior project coming? You're almost done, aren't you?”

“Nearly,” Cas says at the same time as Dean says “Yup.”

Sam and Jess exchange a look.

“We have yet to do any of the nude photos, so that will be next,” Cas explains as their waiter approaches the table with their drinks. 

“I'll be the one to sit for those,” Cas continues, and Dean scowls darkly as he notices the waiter's eyes linger on Cas a little too long for his liking. Dean gives the waiter a dirty look and slings his arm around Cas's shoulders, pulling him close. The waiter drops their drinks off and walks away without a word. Cas gives Dean an odd look and Dean smirks triumphantly when a different server drops their food off.

A companionable silence falls over the group as they situate their food, Cas picking off the pepperonis and giving them to Dean and Dean giving Cas his mushrooms in exchange.

“I don't know why you guys don't order separate pizzas,” Sam quips, gesturing to the oddly domestic food-exchange display.

Dean shrugs and picks a pepperoni off the slice of pizza on Cas's plate and shrugs, popping it into his mouth. Cas smiles to himself and shrugs, too.

**************

The next day finds Dean and Cas in the studio, the rain having let up and the sun bright and shining through the windows. 

“Get naked, Cas,” Dean says, his voice a lower pitch than it normally is. He keeps his head down as he fiddles with the different settings on his camera and completely misses the bright pink flush to Cas's cheeks.

“Boxers, too, man.” Dean calls out and chuckles to himself when he hears Cas's huff. He finally looks up just as Cas's boxers go sailing across the room towards him. “Hey!” he exclaims as they hit him in the chest. Dean grabs them before the hit the floor and puts them over in the pile with the rest of Cas's clothes.

“Aren't these mine?” 

Cas shrugs, crinkling his nose slightly as he shifts impatiently.

“Dude.. my Batman's..” Dean trails off before Cas interrupts him.

“Dean,” he sighs, “Just get on with it already.”

Dean dips his head down, hiding his pleased smirk, and gets back behind his camera.

The room is relatively small, but bright thanks to the sun, and airy from all the windows – the slight breeze from the one open window caused the white sheets on the floor and draped over partitions to flutter slightly in the breeze. The lamps for lighting were positioned perfectly and Dean's tripod is set up and pointed at Cas sitting on a white stool in the center of it all.

Taking a few pictures from the front in a natural pose, Dean walks around Cas's naked form, positioning his limbs where he wants them, nudging Cas's knee slightly, causing them to fall open. He definitely doesn't stare at the dark spattering of hair trailing down Cas's belly button to his groin, and he tries to ignore the rather impressive length resting against his thigh. Dean moves back behind his camera, and takes a quick second to adjust his rapidly hardening dick, telling himself to get it together. He takes a shaky breath to steady his nerves and removes his camera from the tripod, stepping over to Cas once again.

Ignoring Cas's eyes on him, watching him as he circles around Cas's naked form, Dean continues to snap photos from different angles. He moves behind Cas, snapping a few pictures of the dimples above his ass, and Dean can't help himself when he trails his finger tips up Cas's spine. He hears Cas's sharp intake of breath and he moves his fingers up along the bumps, pressing lightly at the top of his spine, and Cas dips his head down, Dean's fingers lingering at the base of Cas's neck.

Cas's gravelly voices cuts through Dean like a knife, startling him out of his trance and causing him to drop his fingers from Cas's skin, “Do we have enough?” he asks, and Dean swallows thickly, clearing this throat a few times before choking out, “Yes.”

**************

“We can't use any of these freakin' pictures, man,” Dean complains, looking up from his laptop when Cas enters the living room, fresh from his shower, a fluffy yellow towel slung low on his hips. Dean licks his lips, his eyes following Cas's movement across the apartment.

“Why not?” Cas asks as he moves to the couch, sitting close to Dean, his bare leg pressing against Dean's denim clad one. He leans into Dean, his hand resting on Dean's knees and his fingers stroking lightly, peering into the laptop screen.

Dean takes a deep breath, inhaling the clean scent of Cas's rain water shampoo and the woodsy undertones of what Dean's pretty sure used to be his body wash. He stares at the side of Cas's face, watching a drop of water trickle down from his hair, and he swallows hard, jumping slightly when he feels Cas nudge his knee with his own.

“Because, Cas,” he clears his throat, suddenly nervous, “It's obvious these are you!”

Cas looks at Dean and squints in confusion.

“See, look,” Dean clicks over to a close up picture of Cas's bare chest and points to the freckle above his nipple, “Who else has a freckle there?”

Cas rolls his eyes, “You do, Dean. You have freckles everywhere.”

Dean opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to come up with a response and failing when Cas clicks over to the next picture.

“What's wrong with this one, Dean?”

Dean swallows, his throat clicking. “You..” he swallows again. “You have a vein.. shoulder.” Dean reaches over and traces the prominent vein on Cas's actual shoulder with a finger. Cas just shakes his head and clicks over to the next picture.

“Lips.”

Next.

“You have a scar there.”

Next.

And Dean is ready with an excuse for each one.

When Cas reaches the sneaky picture Dean took of the dimples right above Cas's ass, Dean pales.

“Really, Dean?” Cas asks, clearly exasperated. He sits back and folds his hands in his lap, turning slightly to face his friend, studying his face with open curiosity and fondness, a small smile curling his lips upward.

Dean rubs his hand across the back of his neck, a sheepish look on his face when he looks up at Cas through thick lashes. Seeing Cas's expression causes something to snap in Dean's resolve and he surges forward, pressing his lips against the other man's, darting his tongue out to lick the soft skin of Cas's mouth. Vaguely hearing a small squeak of surprise, he pulls back quickly and utterly panics. Jumping up from the couch, he jostles his laptop which clatters to the, thankfully, carpeted floor. Dean throws his hands up and backs away.

“Ah, shit, Cas.. fuck.. I'm sorry, I didn't..” Dean trails off, green eyes wide and bright. He turns to the front door, opens it and flees, leaving behind a very bewildered Castiel.

Dean makes it as far as his car before his phone chimes with a new text message from Cas, judging by the custom tone he put on there ages ago. He slides into the Impala and hits his hand hard on the steering wheel, cursing himself and his stupidity. With a shaky breath, he pulls out his phone, absolutely dreading what the message may say. Steeling himself, he opens the message and braces himself for the worst possible scenario he could imagine – Cas telling him to pack his things and get out. He wasn't, however, expecting a picture. Or a picture that he didn't even take, for that matter. Nor was he expecting said picture to be of Cas lying face down in Dean's own bed, his ass partially exposed and crack prominent, showcasing those sexy dimples that Dean loves so much. He also wasn't expecting the text accompanying said picture to say “Maybe if you got naked, too, we could take a few pictures together to use.”

Dean scrambles out of the Impala, accidentally dropping his phone on the seat, and slams the car door shut before he takes off running to his apartment. He runs up the two flights of stairs to reach their third floor apartment and he swings the door open.

“Cas?” he calls out, kicking the front door shut behind him. Not hearing any noise outside of the frantic beat of his own heart, he makes his way into his bedroom and runs right into Cas's naked chest. Dean rakes his eyes over Cas's body, and smirks at his wild hair, he brushes his hands over Cas's bare shoulders, gripping him tightly. Cas crosses his arms over his chest, his underwear clad hip jutting out as he frowns slightly as Dean stares at him.

“Dean,” he says, and that's all it takes for Dean to launch himself forward, pressing his mouth hungrily against Cas's, his fingers frantically grasping at naked skin. Dean pushes Cas hard against the wall, his arms on either side of Cas's head, and Cas sucks in a breath, his lips parting open in invitation to Dean's ministrations.

Dean bites down on Cas's lower lip and sucks, drawing out a heady moan from the other man. He groans as he feels Cas buck his hips up into Dean's, pressing his erection into the other man's. Using that leverage, Cas grabs Dean and pushes off from the wall. 

Cas yanks up on Dean's shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor before pressing kisses across Dean's jaw line. He walks Dean backward toward the bedroom, his hands fumbling with Dean's belt as he latches his mouth onto the pulse point of Dean's neck, sucking hard and drawing out a low groan from him. Accidentally slamming Dean into the door frame of the bedroom, he licks and bites across Dean's neck, his fingers finally undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He yanks them down and grabs Dean's ass, squeezing tightly. He feels Dean grab his own and pull him close, his hips thrusting up into the juncture of his thigh. Cas throws his head back with a groan as Dean rakes his nails across his hipbone.

The slight distraction allows Dean to latch his mouth onto Cas's neck and bite his way down to a nipple. He takes special care to lick the freckle above it and then swirls his tongue over the hardened pink bud. Dean pushes back against Cas, pushing himself away from the door frame and towards the bed, his hands roaming over heated skin. When he feels Cas hit the mattress, he pushes Cas down onto the bed and feels Cas turn them so they fall onto their sides. He watches as Cas lifts up slightly to pull his underwear down, and Dean licks his lips as he watches his dick smack upward to Cas's stomach, the head swollen, pink, and leaking.

Dean scrambles up to the top of the bed, resting his back against the headboard, and he swallows thickly as he watches Cas crawl up the bed on his knees towards him, like a predator stalking his prey. Dean swiftly peels down his boxers and throws them to the floor and he chuckles slightly at the low whine he hears escape Cas's throat. His chuckle quickly turns into a harsh gasp when he feels Cas's hand grip the base of his cock, and he moans loudly, eyes closed and head thrown back, when Cas strokes his hand upward, a thumb brushing over the bead of pre-cum at the slit.

Feeling Cas shift, Dean opens his eyes and looks down at the other man, just in time to see Cas's pink tongue dart out to lick a stripe up the underside of his dick. Dean draws in a shaky breath and nods slightly when Cas looks up at him with his piercing blue eyes. Dean throws his head back, smacking it hard against the head board, when he feels Cas sink his mouth down Dean's dick. He reflectively thrusts his hips up, chasing the heat of Cas's mouth, and groans when he feels one of Cas's hands on his right thigh, pushing it into the mattress. Dean balls his hands into fists, and moans, his head thrashing back and forth as Cas sucks, head bobbing up and down entirely too slow, his breath short and panting when he feels Cas's tongue lap at the head of his cock. He whines when he feels a finger brush across his entrance, so he threads a hand through Cas's hair and yanks, drawing out a moan from the throat his dick was currently down.

“Jesus, fuck, Cas..” he breathes, causing the other man to hum slightly, drawing out another moan from Dean. Cas licks up the underside once more before moving his mouth away and letting go of Dean's hip. He fumbles around under the pillows a bit before he finds the bottle of lube that was stashed there. Dean watches, his chest heaving, as Cas pops open the bottle, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. He watches as Cas squeezes a good amount on his fingers and reaches down to cup Dean's balls, stroking the seam there with a thumb, before reaching down further to brush against Dean's tight hole, his wet finger circling the muscle and massaging to breach inside to the first knuckle.

Cas leans forward and kisses Dean, licking into his open mouth, his finger pushing fully inside of Dean, thrusting it slowly in and out, laving kisses over Dean's freckles. He licks over Dean's lower lip, biting slightly, before kissing again, using his tongue to sooth, a second finger having been added to the first. He licks along Dean's jaw and nips at his earlobe, “I'm going to fuck you, Dean.” he breathes against Dean's neck, and Dean groans, his head thrown back when Cas's fingers crook just enough to hit his prostate.

Dean clutches against Cas's shoulder, his hips bucking upward just enough for his dick to brush against Cas's. “Cas, please..” he whines, and Cas chuckles, grazing his teeth down Dean's chest, his tongue lapping at a nipple, drawing out a hiss, he adds a third finger. Thrusting them in and out, bumping Dean's prostate every third or fourth thrust. He hides a grin as he watches Dean come undone underneath him.

Dean's litany of “Please, Cas, more..” causes Cas to groan. Licking his lips, he withdraws his fingers, smirking at Dean's needy whine and sharp cry of “no!”, his ass lifting up off the bed as if chasing after Cas's fingers. He leans down and brushes a soft kiss across Dean's lips once more and cries out softly as Dean wraps his fingers around Cas's dick, stroking upward two or three times, before guiding it to his entrance, eyes wide and mouth wet and open. He pulls away from Dean and grabs the bottle of lube, popping it open again to slick up his cock, his eyes fluttering closed with pleasure as he strokes himself.

Dean bats Cas's hand away and pushes upward, the dark head of his cock smearing wetness against his stomach. Cas opens his eyes and glances down at Dean, taking in his absolutely wrecked appearance, and taking a deep breath to steady himself. He wraps his fingers around himself again and pushes against Dean's ass, rubbing between it a couple of times, mindful of Dean's moan and his hand palming a bit for friction when the head catches the rim.

“Caaasss..” Dean whines, his lip red and swollen from being bitten, and so Cas shifts slightly, kneeling before Dean. He lifts Dean's ass in the air, pushing back on his legs and holding them there with his forearm. He uses his free hand to guide himself and pushes into Dean's slick hole, slowly, his eyes squeezed shut against the pleasure. Dean wiggles after a moment, and Cas moves, pushing in and bottoming out, his breath hard and fast.

“Fuck, Dean.. so tight,” and Dean cries out as Cas pulls out before thrusting back into his body.

“More,” he breathes, and Cas pulls out again before thrusting hard into Dean. He shifts slightly, angling his hips and quickening his pace. He hears Dean cry out again, watches as his head thrashes back and forth, and Cas drops Dean's legs, allowing them to fall apart. He leans forward, tipping his head down to meet Dean's mouth with open kisses, tongues and teeth wet and frantic. 

Cas reaches between their bodies and wraps his fingers around Dean's length, stroking firmly, his wrist twisting on each upward stroke, thumb catching the slit as he thrusts in and out, his hips gyrating before a sharp thrust. He strokes his hand again and Dean clenches, his cock spurting white strips up and across his chest, Dean's orgasm ripping through his body and causing him to shudder, his head thrown back in a silent scream. Cas sucks in a breath, unaware he had been holding it, and his hips stutter, the rhythm shaky as Dean clenches around him. A few more thrusts has Cas burying his face against Dean's neck, coming with a sob, and collapsing on top of Dean with a grunt.

After a few moments, Dean feels Cas kiss his shoulder and slowly pull out, causing Dean to wince. He smiles and huffs a soft laugh at Cas's murmured apology as he rolls over and sprawls out beside Dean. Dean grimaces slightly as he pulls up a corner of the sheet, using it to clean himself off. He reaches down and intertwines his fingers with Cas's, squeezing lightly.

“It's about fucking time,” Cas quips, his voice deeper than usual and decidedly raw. And Dean laughs.

“Shaddup, Cas,” he grins and turns onto his side, draping an arm over Cas's waist he rests his head in the crook of Cas's neck, kissing the bruised skin there. He closes his eyes with a yawn and Cas pulls the blanket up to their shoulders, settling in for an afternoon nap.

Later, much later, after Dean wakes Cas up by pressing kisses across his chest and sucking bruises into his hip bone, and after they finally roll out of bed and share a shower, they settle together on their too small couch, takeout boxes of food on their coffee table and their bodies pressed close together while they look through the pictures Dean had taken for their senior project. They share small kisses and shy smiles as they take their time selecting which photos to use, with Dean pressing kisses into Cas's neck when he agrees to a particular picture, and Cas using his cell phone to snap new pictures of just the two of them. And if a particular photograph they stumble across causes Dean to place his laptop down on the table and launch himself at Cas, pressing him back into the couch and straddling his hips, well, the pictures will still be there tomorrow and they still have a few weeks left to finish their project anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
